Scientifically Mine
by AJB66613
Summary: Rated M for Mature. Set after the 2003 cartoon. Inspired by "Stitched" by kyuubi-fox-demon on Deviantart. Donatello tries to create a trans-dimensional communicator, but accidentally brings a horrifying turtle tot to his realm.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**

Greetings, one and all! This is AJB66613, with a new story! This story was on my list of plotbunnies that needed to be adopted, but the person who inspired me to do it, Unny Gorey, wanted me to try my hand at it. So, instead of the quick outline of the first few chapters that was previously published here, my beta reader (*squee* I have a beta reader! I have a CELEBRITY beta reader! *double squee*) NuoNos and I worked our magic and started this crazy train I call a story. Enjoy. Review would be nice, since I'm hungry...

**Author's Note**

Scientifically Mine

Ch. 1

Donatello Hamato sits in his chair in his lab, his fingers working delicately. After finally adding the final adjustments, his new creation should be ready for installment. After the fiasco of falling into the future, and then the disaster of their dimensional duplicates falling almost literally into their laps, Donnie couldn't help but become curious. He wants to know how many other dimensions there are, how they are different from his own, how their technologies worked, and actually communicate with beings on the same level of intellect as him. Don't get him wrong, he loves his brothers, it's just… whenever he's trying to explain something to them, this glazed expression rests on his dear siblings' faces. Which frustrates him to no end. Hopefully, though, this new gadget will be the key to relieve his boredom and quench his thirst for knowledge… if only for a bit.

Hence his design and creation of what he likes to call the trans-dimensional communicator window, now being installed to his main computer, which is hooked up to an old-fashioned movie projector. After Hun was mutated and collapsed their home, they had to move… again. Most of his technological miracles were lost, including his computer base, so he had to start over from scratch. Luckily, there was a forgotten building in the Bronx that had a four-car garage (the_ perfect _place to store Raphael's new and improved Shell Cycle and still-work-in-progress Battle Shell), a balcony for the helicopter (whenever he decides to salvage parts and remake the damn thing), an empty indoor pool (which he will fill up with the proper amount of water and chemicals later. Until then, Mikey can shred his skateboard in it and stay out of his lab), and a large basement that has an emergency exit to the subway system (hey, the drill had to go somewhere!)

He supposes the building was either a place to shoot an action movie and had been forgotten, or a celebrity that wanted to live in New York, but didn't like where they were building it, the architecture, something about the house, and it had been forgotten. Either way, the structure was abandoned, and his family is thankful. He doesn't really care; it's not like the person who was going to live here wasn't going to burn through millions of dollars anyway. The point was, his family was living above ground, and he couldn't be happier to wake up because of the sun in his eyes instead of his brother's filthy foot under his nose.

He checks the connection program from the device to see if it's working. He exhale's sharply in pride. His little desktop has recognized the gadget and is awaiting his order. He double checks all the wires, turning on the projector in the process. He also checks his first aid kit, the fire extinguisher, and many other crisis-averting supplies, to make sure they were in perfect working order. You never know what can happen when using unknown science with insufficient- not to mention ancient- technological support. Satisfied that his security measures have been set, he heads to his door, and follows it out; not even bothering to use the staircase, he hops over the rail and lands in the living room. "Leo? Master Splinter?"

No matter what crisis, he can always count on his Sensei and oldest brother's focus on a schedule. As previously predicted, a makeshift shoji door opens, revealing the leaf-green terrapin and the aging rodent in what was once a dining room.

"What is it, Don?" Leo asks.

The olive-skinned genius smiles, "I just wanted to forewarn you about an experiment I'm about to conduct. There might be an explosion. If there is, it's just me. Don't give me that look, Leo. I've already took precautions. I'll be fine."

His oldest brother snaps his mouth shut. "Alright, Don. Just… try not to blow this place up, okay?"

Chocolate eyes roll. "It's on the top of my list." After bowing to his father and brother, he pivots his feet, eyes immediately searching for his Sai-wielding sibling. He finds said brother in the kitchen, fixing himself a sandwich, obviously finished with his "training," for the hour.

"Hi, Raphie."

Golden eyes glance at him as mustard squelches disgustingly out of the bottle and onto Italian bread. "Hey, Don. Wat? Do ya need me ta move sometin'?"

He smiles good naturedly and shakes his head. "Actually, no, not this time. I just wanted to warn you to stay clear of my lab for a couple of hours. I'm going to be doing a critical experiment that I _really_ don't want to blow up in my face. So, if I'm not being too bold, would you be able to entertain yourself quietly? I'd greatly appreciate it."

The emerald-skinned turtle finishes making his sandwich and places it on a paper plate. "Yeah, sure, Don. I tink I gots some Hustla 'zines I haven' read yet."

The purple banded ninja smiles brightly. "Thank you! Now, what do I have to do to get you to keep Michelangelo nice and quiet?"

His brother shakes his head, "Sorry, Don, but dat's pushin' it fa me. Yer on yer own wit' dat nutball." Donatello sighs. Well, at least he tried.

He watches his brother leave with his snack, mentally shaking the hunger pains the scent of the sandwich started creating. He'll eat later. Right now, he's got to figure out a way to keep his youngest- and most annoying- brother away from this possibly dangerous experiment. A sudden idea pops into his head. Fighting a malicious grin, he exits the kitchen to find the aqua-skinned turtle playing video games… so loudly, it went beyond the point of ridiculous. How did he not hear the racket before?! Gently rubbing the side of his head, doing his best to fight off the beginnings of a headache, he grabs the television remote, and hits 'mute.'

"Hey! What did you do that for, Donnie?! It's almost at an awesome cinematic!"

Shaking his head and rolling his eyes at the blue-eyed terrapin, he sighs. "Actually, Mikey, I was wondering if you could help me in a biological experiment…" he blinks and his brother is suddenly at the basement door.

"Sorry, bro, but I, uh… I promised… LH, yeah, that's who! I promised LeatherHead that we would… watch a… a Skip Beat marathon! You know him and his dramas! Later, dude!" and with that, his brother became nothing more than a poof of dust as he ran for it.

He chuckles to himself softly. Really, just because the last time Michelangelo was a lab rat to him, and his medicine gave him sores on his arms, shouldn't scare his little brother _that_ much… right?

Shaking off the guilt, he finally returns to his lab, leaving the door cracked. He doesn't want to trap himself in here, after all, in case something _does_ happen. After sitting down in his chair and pulling up the program, he randomly chooses a dimensional frequency, automatically writing it down in his journal for later use. He pops the joints in his knuckles, thumb, wrists, elbows, spine, neck, and takes a deep breath. After praying to whoever is running his crazy world, he slowly, hesitantly, presses the connect button.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**

So, apparently, nobody cares that I've adopted this story from myself, and nobody cares to read it, let alone review it. Except for my cousin, ShotgunRedneck. Feeling the love. Seriously. Other than NuoNos, and Unny Gorey, I have gotten no positive feedback.

Other than that, enjoy, few people who actually read this.

**Author's Note**

Scientifically Mine

Ch. 2

The fifty-plus year old projector slowly starts whirring, turning on and lighting up the room with an eerie glow. Donatello stares at the screen, the light flickering at odd intervals. _Did it work...?_ Slowly, an image appears on the screen. It is almost ridiculously grainy, but the genius turtle can tell it's a place he's never seen before. He double checks the relic to see if an old film was accidentally left in it. His heart jumps to his throat; the projector is empty. He's staring at an alternate dimension. He whoops in joy, but quickly silences himself. He doesn't want to scare away whoever is on the other side.

He studies what he can see of the new location. It looks old, decrepit, and the architecture is distinctively reminiscent of the Renaissance period. Is this dimension many years behind his own? _Possible. _ He blinks in astonishment. Through the grainy image, he sees a desk, covered in notes, beakers filled with liquids, a candelabra flickers precariously at the edge. He's at a lab! Another scientist! Wonderful! But how is he supposed to communicate? Projectors only show images, and with the seriously geared up version he sees in the corner (which was on, more than likely corresponding with its counterpart in his dimension, interesting,) He'd say the style in that dimension is similar to his world's own Steampunk.

He looks to the left side of the screen. A large bookshelf built into the wall showcases many worn, leather-bound books, stacks upon stacks of loose paper, a jar or two of something or another, and, for some reason, a cannon ball. He frowns at the odd addition. It appears to have been hollowed out, but again, the picture is grainy, so he can't be sure. He heads to the lens of the projector and slightly adjusts it, hoping that will help in the clarity of the image. He fights back a smirk when he's right. He can see much more clearly, but it has a serious near-sightedness to it. He can't see properly past the other projector, but he's not complaining.

He was right with the cannonball. It looks to have been hollowed out to hold something. A small latch is on the side of it. A container cannonball? Well, that's one way to use it, he supposes. But the latch makes him wonder if this is lab in that dimension belongs to their Donatello. Really, only he would be creative to hide something important in there. Especially if that dimension's Michelangelo is as annoying as his own.

His stomach lurches slightly when his eyes stray to the nearest jar on the bookshelf. It's filled with eyes. And not just any eyes. Shades of brown, silver, blue and amber stare blankly at him through the screen. Feeling his skin crawl at the morbid site, he ignores it, finding a door at the other end of the room. A shadow flits through his peripheral vision. He slowly glances back towards the other dimension's projector. A silhouette of a mutant turtle is easily visible. It's crouching behind the projector, obviously afraid. He smiles at the crouching turtle.

It raises its head to him. He waves softly, gently coaxing the scared turtle out of its hiding place. The turtle slowly stands, still hiding behind the projector. From this angle, Donatello can see that the turtle... is a tot! Could this dimension's Don found a way to scientifically procreate without the need of a female counterpart? It would explain the extra eyes in the jar. His smile gets bigger as the turtle tot slowly comes closer to the screen. He can now see the color of the child's eyes. Or should he say colors. He gasps in surprise. The tot had heterochromia! One eye was cerulean, just like Michelangelo's, and the other was a vibrant golden amber, identical to Raphael. He wonders if that Donatello had used his siblings' genes to perfect the secret to procreation. _Again, possible._

The door behind the prpjector suddenly slams open, blinding Don. Squinting through his mask, he sees what appears to be a female human, who stomps over to the shrinking turtle tot. She drags the child out, pointing at him. More than likely asking about him being there on the screen. He growls unintentionally. Just who is this lady? What did the child ever do to her? The tot shakes his head violently, then is smacked heavily by the woman. Donatello snarls at the image. How dare she?! It's just a child! Said child wriggles out of her grasp, running toward the screen. Heart wrenching, he places his hand on the image of the child, its shell now turned to him. His eyes widen at the phenomenon that suddenly happens. His hand has slipped through the screen!

He inhales sharply at the sudden feel of a small carapace grazing against his knuckles. He can save the child! Without thinking (and to anyone who knows Donatello, this would more than likely be the first time he's ever done that,) he grips onto the lip of the small shell, and heavily yanks, not knowing how heavy the kid was, or how much effort was needed to pull someone through a dimension. But apparently, he used too much strength, because he and the child are practically thrown into his own projector, causing it to collapse and fizz out, leaving the two turtles in sudden darkness.

"Ouch... that was a rough landing, wasn't it?" He hears no response. But he does see those eyes glow at him in the darkness, letting him know that the child was conscious. "...Not a big talker, are you?" He sees the eyes shake. "That's okay. Now, let's get up and find some light." _And after that, I'll see about getting some answers..._ He scrounges around until he bumps into his chair. After hoisting himself up, he fumbles into a drawer for an emergency candle and lighter. "Aha!" He lights it victoriously. He stands and heads to the door, ready for more light to head in. He feels little hands on his thigh. He smiles down at the silhouette. "Oh, did you want to hold the candle?" He feels a hand reach for said illumination.

He chuckles. "Well, alright then. Don't burn yourself, though, okay?"He hears a child-like giggle. Sounds to be a smooth, gravelly sound. Almost like a purr. Chuckling inwardly at that thought, he hands the child the candle, searching for the doorknob in the dim light. He frowns slightly as his hand wraps around the handle. Those hands feel a little too scabbed to be a child's. Creaking the door open slightly, he slowly turns to the turtle tot. Sunlight pools onto the child's face.

Donatello wishes it didn't; his mouth drops in sheer horror, spinning immediately in place, carapace to the door. The... tot, has his mouth... One of Mikey's cheeks... Leo's shoulder... one of Raph's fingers... his own _thigh_... bile rises in his throat the more he stares at the mix-matched stitches adorning the thing. One of the most disgusting parts was that it was wearing a noose like a lady would wear a necklace. Previous images he reviewed replays in his mind, suddenly making sense. The spare eyes. The jars full of body parts. The female scientist.

Images start flooding into his head as to how this dimension could have had no Splinter. The tots had been found by that woman. Attempts of escape failing. Painful surgery to combine four turtles to one. One blue eye and one golden...

Donatello starts hyperventilating. This child had been created with his and his brother's body parts. Hell, the bandana the kid is wearing had been haphazardly sewn together from their own colors... just like the poor thing's body. The genius turtle could only do one thing at that particular moment.

Scream bloody murder.


End file.
